Barking Mad World
by Siese
Summary: Kate thinks she's the only survivor left in the world, with nothing but her German shepherd for company, when she stumbles across a certain redneck with a crossbow who might just make her realize there's hope left in the world after all.
1. Something New

_****_It has been a dreadfully long time since I've tried my hand at a fanfic. I generally write original stories, but I am a huge fan of The Walking Dead. And, I found myself wondering where the animals in the show are! As a dog owner (German shepherd, to be exact. You can go to my profile to see a picture of my dog, who is the model for the dog in this story), I don't think I'd leave my dog behind unless I had absolutely no choice. No, my dog would be right there alongside me at the end of the world if I had any say in the matter, and I like to think there are other people who feel the same way. So, I decided that I would try including a character of my own in the Walking Dead story; a character with a dog.

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><p><em><strong>Chapter 1<strong>_

Kate was awoken by the soft sounds of growling in her ear. For a moment with her eyes still closed, she could pretend that everything was the way it was supposed to be. She could pretend she was in her warm, comfortable bed. Her German shepherd dog was snuffling her wet nose against her arm because the sun was up and that _obviously_ meant it was playtime. The sun was streaming through the bedroom windows of her small apartment and shining down her face.

The illusion was broken when she heard shuffling against the exterior of the truck. Sitting up and grabbing her baseball bat in one fluid, practiced motion, muscles tensing almost to the point of snapping, she peered through the driver's side window. Not surprisingly-and she shuddered to realize such a thing was commonplace now-the man standing outside her window was dressed in tattered gray rags that had once been a nice suit, but now was covered in tears and various bodily fluids. His lifeless eyes stared back at her, his mouth gaping open hungrily as thin fingers reached through the small crack between the window and frame. There was a deep gash torn out of his neck, and congealed blood was dried to his gray flesh and shirt. Something had taken a nice chunk out of him, when he'd been alive.

"Get your own truck," Kate hissed, rolling the window down just far enough that she could rear back and slam the end of the bat against the walker's head. The walker fell back, collapsing on the pavement. Without waiting for it to get up again, she turned the key in the ignition and sped away.

Beside her, Ruger, her dog-and the only thing left from her old life-grumbled uneasily. Reaching out, she patted the sable German shepherd and gave her a good scratch behind the ears until the dog settled down on the bench seat of the small truck once more.

Speaking of the truck-.

Kate checked the fuel gauge. "Son of a bitch, Ruger. We're going to be walking soon. We're out in the middle of nowhere. Not a damn car in sight."

Ruger yawned, apparently unconcerned.

It was true. She wouldn't be able to siphon fuel from another car or gas station if no such thing existed in the backwoods where she found herself.

"We just _had_ to go to this stupid dog training expo in Atlanta-freaking-Georgia for the weekend, and the next thing you know, the world's coming to a grand ole fucking end. This is _your_ fault, you know," she told Ruger. "We just _had_ to come here and check out all the handsome stud dogs. I only came to this God forsaken hellhole for _you_, you ungrateful little bitch."

The bitch in question sat up and licked one long, wet strip up Kate's cheek.

Kate chuckled. "Yeah, yeah. I love you, too."

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><p>"<em>Son of a bitch<em>!" Kate kicked the fender of the little black truck and glanced around at their surroundings. All things considered, it was better than being in the middle of the city-where her hotel room had been when all hell broke loose-but she really didn't fancy walking until she found another vehicle to steal.

But, it didn't look like they had much of a choice.

She reached into the glove compartment and pulled out a .38 revolver, along with the box of bullets that went with it. She stuffed the box into her bag, which also had three bottles of water, two rolls of toilet paper, a small towel, a change of clothes, a leash, and a bag of dog food. She had a small pocket knife in her right jeans pocket, and used a rubber band she found in the middle console for pulling her auburn hair into a bun. The Georgia heat was sweltering. Ruger, sitting outside the truck waiting for her, was panting in the thick air. Grabbing her bat, she kicked the truck door closed and glanced up and down the road.

"Which way should we go?" She asked the dog, who followed her blue eyed gaze with her own deep brown one. "We can really only go one way," she explained. "Forwards. Or else walk all the way back to Atlanta. Or cut through the forest, and God only knows where we'd wind up if we did that."

Ruger gave a soft growl-bark and stood. "You want to go into the woods? Really?"

Ruger barked.

"Ahh, okay! Be quiet. Geez. You just want to go under the shade, don't you?"

When the dog did nothing but stare impatiently, Kate sighed.

"Okay, then. Let's go into the mysterious forest. Lead the way, pup. But I just want you to know: if you get us eaten, I'm taking it outta your ass."

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><p>After several hours of walking, Kate began to think the forest was never going to end. Ruger was happily trotting beside her, her tail wagging happily at the prospect of an adventure. Kate wasn't worried about her running off; she had trained her from a young puppy to walk off-leash. Even when she took her for walks around the block back home, the leash was just a formality to keep other people from feeling uncomfortable at the sight of an eighty pound German shepherd coming toward them with nothing but the owner's confidence in the dog's listening skills to keep them safe.<p>

"I am about to need a break, little girl," Kate said. Finding a fallen log, she sat down heavily and pulled out a bottle of water. "Ruger!" She pointed at her feet, and the dog trotted over and sat down. After taking a drink for herself, Kate tipped the bottle up and allowed Ruger to lick several mouthfuls of water.

It wasn't until Kate glanced behind her that she realized they had been walking up a steady incline since departing from the road-which she couldn't even see anymore.

When Ruger suddenly raised her head and stared hard in one direction-slightly to the right of the direction they had been walking for the last several hours-and emitted a low warning growl.

"Great," Kate grumbled. She reached into her open backpack and silently drew the .38, thumbing back the hammer. "_Bleib_," she whispered to Ruger-the German word for 'stay'. The last thing she needed was for her dog to go chasing after mysterious sounds during the end of the world.

There was a tense moment where nothing happened, and Kate was about the rule it a false alarm when she heard a soft _thump_ overhead. Raising her head, she was just in time to see something small and brown charging toward her.

"D'ahh!" She shrieked. Dog and woman leapt simultaneously-Kate leaping away and Ruger leaping toward whatever it was.

"Ruger, _lass es_!" She shouted as quickly as she could without stumbling over the words. Ruger froze over the furry object and huffed, unhappy with being told she couldn't play with it, and Kate inched forward, waving Ruger's face aside so she could get a better look.

"It's a squirrel. I just got kamikazed by a mother fucking squirrel...with an arrow sticking out of it." She glanced around, then back to the squirrel. "Why is there an arrow sticking out of it? Ruger, _lass es_!" Kate waved the dog away for a second time, and the canine huffed unhappily and sat back on her haunches.

"Best not let that dog eat my squirrel!"

Kate had never moved so quickly in her life, whirling around and raising her gun. Ruger positioned herself in front of both Kate and the squirrel, not growling but wary.

"_Your_ squirrel?" Kate repeated, staring at the man before her. The dirt on his face, neck, and bare arms suggested he had been out here for a few days, and the crossbow aimed at her was steady and gleaming-the only clean thing about him. He obviously took good care of it, probably in a similar way to how Kate took care of Ruger. Also, based on the squirrel corpse at her feet, he had damn good aim with it.

"I shot it."

"What, do you live out here or something?"

"Not out here," he said, but offered up no more information.

"You got a name, or should I just call you Davy Crockett?" Kate asked, not lowering her gun.

"You want to make introductions with your gun in my face and your dog staring me down?"

"You got a crossbow in my face."

"How do I know you won't shoot me if I put it away?" He asked.

"And what would I shoot you for, your squirrels?" She sneered, noting the string of dead furry things around his shoulders.

The man huffed. "Put 'em down on three," he suggested. "One...two...three."

At 'three', they both lowered their weapons. Kate released the hammer on her gun and tucked it into her belt.

"Name's Daryl. Dixon," the hunter said, stepping forward and eyeing Ruger warily.

"Kate St. James," she replied, sticking out her hand. When Ruger saw this, she relaxed and stepped toward Daryl to give him a good sniffing, seemingly very interested in all the many smells on his dirty boots.

"Fancy name," he commented, shaking her hand with a firm grip.

"I don't hear that often or anything," she said, stooping down to wrap her hand around the arrow sticking out of the squirrel. She picked it up, squirrel and all, and handed it to Daryl.

He chuckled, then pulled the squirrel off the end of the arrow and set about adding it to his string of tiny corpses. Ruger followed him when he sat down on the fallen log, moving in so that she was leaning against his leg. He rolled his eyes at the canine but paid her no more mind, as she only sniffed at the squirrels and made no move to try and steal one.

"She's friendly when food is involved," Daryl noted.

Kate was surprised he'd noticed Ruger was a female. Most people assumed she was a male because of her wide head and large size. At eighty pounds, she was bigger, and also taller, than the standard weight and height of a female German shepherd dog. Kate had once put a pink collar on the dog to help others recognize her gender, and the people at the pet store still called her a "good boy".

Kate giggled. "So, where did you come from?"

"Could ask you the same thing," Daryl responded.

"_We_ have been walking up this damn ridge for hours. My truck ran out of gas down there at the road."

"I'm with some people up at the quarry."

"People? How many people?"

He shrugged. "Over a dozen. Couple of families. Couple of others. You're welcome to come. They say to bring any survivors we find." He slanted a look over at her as he stood up. "Didn't expect to find anyone out here, though. Much less somebody with a damn mutt."

"She's not a mutt," Kate said with gritted teeth, then realized she had given him the reaction he was looking for. He was _smirking_ at her.

"Does she hunt?" He asked, as though to assuage her rising fury. He eyed Ruger, who had returned to Kate's side and was sitting on her feet and leaning against her legs, looking up with big puppy eyes until Kate reached down and scratched her ears.

"Never tried. It's worth a shot."

"Come on, then. We'll see if we can't catch a few more things before headin' back. It's a long walk." He eyed her for her reaction.

"Ruger will love it then."

He made a face. "You named your dog after a gun?"

"You are not allowed to judge me. I'm not the one walking around with a squirrel necklace."

"Don' be jealous."

Kate snorted.

"Come on, let's go."

Kate whistled. "Ruger, _fuss_!"

Daryl shot her a questioning look. "It's German for 'heel'."

"'Course."

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><p>I'd really like to know what people think of this idea, and whether or not I should continue! Review, review!<p> 


	2. Brand New World

_****_Wow! I'm surprised by the number of people that have already reviewed/added this story to favorites or story alerts. You guys really made my day! And because of that, I'll go ahead and post the second chapter. Enjoy, and don't forget to review!

_**Chapter 2**_

Ruger managed to catch a rabbit, chasing it through the underbrush of the forest and trotting proudly back to her pack with the limp rabbit hanging from her mouth. She reminded Kate of a rooster strutting around the farm, chest puffed out and chin up high. There was a pleased glimmer in her brown eyes that Kate adored, and she gave the dog and good scratching when she placed her prize at Kate's feet.

"'At's a good dog," Daryl admitted as he scooped up the rabbit.

"And she knows it," Kate cooed at Ruger, who leaned up and licked her chin.

"We ain't far from camp now. This'll do fer the night."

"Okay."

After a beat of silence, she said, "So, these are nice people?" She hadn't had anyone but Ruger to talk to since she escaped from her hotel.

"They're awright. Just people. You'll see fer yerself soon enough."

"And your brother?"

He shook his head. "My brother don't get along with no one. Jus' the way he is, I reckon."

"Not even you?"

He shrugged, but said no more.

They walked in silence for a while after that, Daryl on one side of Kate and Ruger on the other, keeping pace with them and panting softly in the heat. Kate wondered what would have happened if she'd been at home in Tennessee when the world went to shit. She wondered if her friends and family were okay. She had no way of getting in touch with any of them, and no way of getting back home now, without a car.

Ruger suddenly lunged forward, blocking Kate from walking any farther. Glaring through the trees, she growled lowly, snarling on the inhale.

"What the fuck?" Daryl asked.

"She sees something. Or hears something." Kate stepped forward, peering through the trees in the direction Ruger faced. Daryl moved in beside her, squinting.

He raised his crossbow and eased forward. Kate moved with him, staying slightly behind so he wouldn't be distracted or accidentally shoot _her_.

She saw it at almost the precise moment he did. The walker shuffled on near silent feet through the trees, headed toward some unknown destination.

"It's going toward camp," Daryl said and promptly shot it in the head with an arrow.

Ruger looked up at her as Daryl went to retrieve the arrow. "He's hardcore," Kate whispered.

She followed after him, feeling both lucky and nervous to have found him.

When they arrived at the mysterious camp, Kate was surprised by how little people seemed to care about her arrival. Apparently, she wasn't the first newbie of the day. A policeman had shown up that some of the other survivors knew. She found out his name was Rick.

There was, however, a big to-do about Ruger's sudden appearance.

"Look, Mom! It's a wolf!" One little boy said, tugging the arm of his dark-haired mother.

"Ain't no wolf," Daryl said as he strode by. "Just a mutt."

"She's _not a mutt_, Davy Crockett!" Kate shouted at his retreating back. Ruger sat down and leaned against her side, nosing her hip.

"Hi," someone nearby said. Kate turned and smiled at the Korean who had spoken. "Is she friendly?"

"She is. I'm Kate."

"Glenn." He stuck out a hand, and they shook amicably.

"Wow!" Kate turned to see the boy sticking a hand out for Ruger to sniff, at the chagrin of his mother. Ruger licked experimentally at the proffered hand, then stood up and nudged against the boy's chest, eager to be petted.

"It's fine; she's totally harmless unless he has a fluffy tail and big ears," Kate said to his mother, who smiled.

"I just can't help worrying. I'm Lori, by the way."

After that, introductions were made all around. Most everyone was taken with Ruger after learning that she wasn't a killing machine. The older man, Dale, brought out a pan of water for her from the RV.

It was then that Kate realized something was going on between Daryl and the policemen. She stepped away from the crowd and to the men beside the RV.

"...me process this," Daryl was saying. "You said you handcuffed my brother to a roof-and you _left him there_?"

The policeman, Rick, nodded. "Yeah."

_Don't try to sound too upset there_, Kate thought to herself.

It wasn't her business; she didn't know these people. Hell, she barely knew Daryl. But she knew that these people were staring at Daryl's wrecked face with no remorse, and the other cop, Shane, was inching in from the side, already anticipating Daryl's anger-fueled attack. Kate, herself, thought Daryl was completely justified in a little ass-whoopage. But she knew that he would be fighting two of them-or more, considering T-dog was watching tensely from nearby-and she just couldn't just stand by and watch it happen. Maybe that was why she found herself striding towards the three men before the fight ever broke out.

"Hold it!" She shouted, and all three men turned toward her.

"Get outta here, Kate," Daryl ordered, voice gravelly with emotion.

"You handcuffed his brother to a roof," she said, ignoring Daryl. She waited for Rick to nod, and then said, "Any chance he's still there?"

T-Dog stepped forward. "I bolted the door closed before I left. No way the geeks can get past it."

Kate nodded, walking forward until she was nose to nose with Daryl. "Then let's go get him back," she said so only he could hear.

Part of her was screaming, _why would you volunteer to go back to Atlanta when you know how bad it is?_ But the ruling majority of her couldn't get past the broken look in Daryl's eyes, that the only family he had left had been left to die by people he thought he could trust.

Slowly, he nodded. "Okay. Let's do it."

"And the people here?" She continued to whisper, reminding him of their earlier conversation. He nodded again. "Real shitty. I should've stayed in the woods with my dog and Davy Crockett."

That got her a weak smile.


	3. Tracking Merle

_****_Wow, guys! I'm surprised by the reviews. I'm really glad others seem interested in the idea, and I'll definitely be continuing this story!

_**Chapter 3**_

Daryl was glaring at anyone who dared to make eye contact within the confines of the moving van. The only exception to this was Kate, who was too busy glaring at her dog to bother looking at Daryl for the moment. She had ordered the dog to stay behind, but as soon as she had turned her back to climb into the back of the truck, Ruger hopped in beside her, and no amount of commanding, in German, English, or incoherent cursing and tugging at the dog's collar could force the large canine from the truck. With onlookers laughing, Daryl had finally told her to stop arguing with "the damn mutt" and let the dog come along for the ride if she was so insistent, because they were wasting time.

When they reached Atlanta, leaving the truck behind on the railroad tracks, Rick said, "Which do we get first, the guns or Merle?"

"Why are we even having this conversation?" Daryl asked hotly as the group slipped through a hole in a fence.

"Glenn, you know the area the best," Rick said.

"Merle's closer," Glenn replied. "We should get him first."

Daryl continued to glare at Rick a moment longer, but the policeman refused to make eye contact.

They managed to make it to Merle's building with little hassle. Daryl had to shoot a couple of walkers that ventured too close to their group, but they managed to avoid the more congested parts of the city, thanks to Glenn's genius. Kate spent a few moments being paranoid that Ruger would suddenly run off to chase down one of said walkers, but the dog stuck so close to her side that she frequently bumped into her leg, throwing the slender girl off-balance on more than one occasion.

They slipped quietly inside the building-a clothing store, by the looks of it. The only sound to break the stifling silence was their breath and Ruger's claws clicking rhythmically against the tile. It was almost terrifying when Ruger suddenly dropped her head and snarled deeply at something across the store, the sudden break in the silence enough that the majority of the group started nervously at the sound. Kate pointed, and Daryl shot the shuffling walker in the forehead.

"You sure are handy to have around," Kate said softly, patting Daryl on the back.

The redneck managed a small smirk at that, and Kate congratulated herself on a job well done. He had been sullen and quiet since finding out about his brother-not that he was talkative on the best of days-and she felt that she had some sort of obligation to help him through this. After all, she might still have been wandering in the woods if he hadn't come along and showed her there were survivors. Hell, before he'd come along she hadn't been sure there was anyone else _left_.

It wasn't until they got to the rooftop that she realized there _was_ no helping him through this.

They took the stairs to the rooftop at a run, taking the stairs two and three at a time. Daryl and Ruger made it to the top at the same time.

"Merle!" Daryl called as he cut the chain on the door—at least it was still held shut, Kate thought—and shouldered through it.

Kate covered her mouth with one hand when she saw no one on the rooftop, but when her eyes were drawn to the pool of blood beneath the cuffs—and the severed hand there as well—she kept her hand to her mouth for a different reason entirely.

Kate snagged Ruger's collar as the dog started to lope over to the severed appendage. She didn't like to think about her dog finding a new chew toy in Daryl's brother's hand—because dogs will be dogs, and they don't discriminate against chew toys of any kind—and she also didn't like to think about what Daryl would do to her dog if he even _thought_ she was going to put her mouth on it. She rather liked her dog alive, thanks very much.

"No," Daryl said, hands going to his hair as his voice rose and he paced frantically, alternating between staring in horror at his brother's severed hand and turning away from it in disgust. "No. No! No!"

None of them knew what to do next.

When the others started moving forward, eyes glued to the gory scene, Daryl was shaken from his misery. Turning in one swift move, he raised the crossbow and took aim at T-Dog, who went absolutely still. Kate was about to intervene when Rick raised his revolver to Daryl's temple.

"Don't think I won't do it," Rick said. "I don't care if it attracts every damn walker in the city."

Daryl's face contorted in misery and andger, but after a moment's hesitation, he lowered the crossbow.

Kate and Glenn shared an uneasy look while the tension ebbed between the three men. After a moment of silence, Daryl looked appraisingly at T-Dog—mask firmly back in place—and said, "You got a doo-rag or somethin'?"

Kate wondered if that could be considered racist, even though T-Dog obligingly pulled a slip of cloth from his pocket and handed it to the redneck.

When Daryl strode over to Glenn and put the bloodied hand in his backpack, Glenn turned wide eyes on Kate, his face going slightly pale. Kate's face twisted sympathetically as she released Ruger's collar, now that the hand was safely out of reach of her jaws. Not surprisingly, the canine went immediately to the puddle of blood that lingered around the handcuffs. She followed the strange scent around the area, then branched out, following a small, almost nonexistent trail that led to a door on the other side of the rooftop. When her exploration was cut short by the closed door, Ruger pawed it experimentally, scraping her claws across the metal, and then looked back impatiently at Kate.

"Smart fuckin' dog," Daryl said, walking over and opening the door to follow Ruger down the stairs.

Kate and the others raced after them. Daryl took over the hunt, with Ruger trotting along happily at his side.

"How do you know this is the way he went?" Kate asked, striving to keep up with the tall hunter, her legs pumping almost double-time to his.

Before he could answer, the hallway they were walking down opened up into a room, which was decorated with the bodies of several dead walkers.

"Well, these fuckers didn't die on their own, I'd bet," he replied. "Plus, you can see a little blood, if you're lookin' for it."

"Merle killed all these walkers on his own, with no weapon and only one hand?" Kate asked, awed.

"My brother's a tough bastard. Not about to let a bunch of rotten corpses bring 'im down."

Kate felt a wave of nausea when they came to a kitchen. The smell of burnt flesh assaulted her nostrils, and she realized with rising horror that there was blood on the stove top, blue flames still burning in the eyes. Rick and Daryl stepped forward to inspect it further, but Kate blocked out the sound of their voices, not needing to hear what she already knew. Merle had cauterized the stump, and the thought almost made her sick to her stomach.

"Oh, my God," she breathed, turning away. That was when she spotted the hole where the window had been broken. "Guys, looks like Merle might've left the building."

"Course he did," Daryl said, following her gaze to peer out the broken window himself. "He knew enough to get the hell outta this death trap."

"We can't track him any further without risking all our lives," Rick said.

"Not without the guns, at least," Kate said before Daryl could argue. The redneck glanced over at her and nodded.

"Any ideas how we might get 'em from a street crowded with geeks?" T-Dog asked.

Glenn stepped forward. "I think I might have one."


	4. Complications

_**Chapter 4**_

Glenn had decided that Kate and Ruger should stay with Daryl while T-Dog and Rick stayed at the other end of the block, while he took the most dangerous job of retrieving the bag of guns. Daryl's crossbow couldn't be reloaded as quickly as Kate's gun, so they were there in the event that Daryl had too many walkers and too few arrows.

"You from around here?" Daryl asked. They were huddled together behind a dumpster, hiding from plain view. Ruger was sitting at their feet, ears up and alert, wary of the walkers in the street but not enough to set the dog off.

"Nope. I was here for a dog training expo that Ruger's breeder recommended I go to."

"You sound like you're from the south," Daryl said, noting her accent.

"That's 'cause I am. Tennessee, to be exact. I was at Knoxville for college."

"Ain't you fancy," he drawled.

"What about you?" She asked, ignoring the sarcasm.

"Lived in a little town outside Atlanta with my brother. We'd just been moving' from place to place, trying' not to get too comfortable anywhere when we found the others."

"I thought I might've been the only one left," Kate admitted. "Then my truck broke down. String of bad luck, I've had."

"Mm," Daryl agreed unintelligibly. "Same here."

They went silent, tensely watching the walkers shuffle by in the street beyond their little hiding place. It wasn't until Ruger suddenly turned in the other direction and darted off that they realized something was amiss.

"Ruger!" Kate hissed.

She rose from her hiding place just in time to see Ruger chasing down a boy, who had turned tail and fled as soon as he saw the behemoth dog running toward him. Ruger launched herself forward, snatching a moutful of baggy pants, and dragged the boy to the ground, shaking the cloth back and forth in her mouth and very nearly pulling the kid's pants down.

"Ruger, _aus_!" Kate hissed, trying to keep her voice down, although the panic she felt made that difficult. Was this boy a walker? Was her dog going to turn into one if she got blood in her mouth?

She felt a heavy hand land on her shoulder, and she turned to see Daryl gripping her shoulder in one strong hand, staring at the screaming kid on the ground. Ruger let go of his pants and came trotting back to Kate's side, but turned once she was sitting on Kate's feet and growled one last time.

The kid sat up, still shouting unintelligible words at them.

"What the hell is he saying?" Kate asked.

"Nothin' in English, I don't think. Better get him to shut up." Daryl strode forward and forced the kid down onto the ground, putting one hand over his mouth. "Shut up, dumb ass, or you'll bring the geeks down on us!"

Kate was so focused on the two struggling men that she didn't see Ruger suddenly turn to look at something behind her. She didn't realize the kid had friends until something hard and heavy slammed into the back of her head.

The slender girl went down hard, her head spinning as the sounds of a struggle momentarily drowned out the moaning of the walkers nearby. Ruger was snarling, someone was screaming. Daryl was shouting, and then suddenly Glenn's voice joined the cacophony, screaming for help. Kate tried to move, tried to force her brain to function past the pounding in her skull.

When she finally managed to sit up, and the world refocused into singular objects, it was to see quite a bit of blood staining the ground around her. Her confusion was momentarily frozen when she saw Daryl, bruised and slightly bloody, run back over to the kid before he could flee. Ruger was hot on his heels, barking and snarling just inches from the kid, but not biting. Daryl threw him up against the alley, shouting something in the kid's face. He threw a punch, and the boy staggered. Kate attempted to stand and stop him and Ruger from killing the poor kid when Rick and T-Dog appeared and dragged Daryl away.

"What happened?" Kate asked, stumbling to her feet.

Ruger instantly dashed to her side, bumping against her leg. Kate put her hand on the dog's back for support, but she felt dizzy again when she looked down and saw blood around the canine's mouth, staining her sharp teeth.

"This fucker's friends jumped us! They kidnapped Glenn!" Daryl shouted. "I'm gonna kill him!" He started forward again, but Rick put a staying hand on his chest.

"I don't understand," Kate began, but Rick cut her off.

"Neither do we, but right now we need to get off the street."

She nodded.

Daryl visibly reigned in his anger and went to her side, offering her his arm. She took it gratefully, happy to lean against him and let him lead her around. She determinedly ignored the way the muscles in his arm and side moved while he walked, and instead focused on trying to breathe past the pain in her skull.

"They hit me, didn't they?" She asked as they followed the others to a nearby building.

"With a baseball bat," Daryl growled under his breath.

She reached up to touch the back of her head, surprised when her fingers came away bloody.

"It hurt," she said, sounding awed.

"Why you sound so surprised?"

She sniffed, shrugged. "I don't know. Never been hit with a baseball bat."

"Can't believe they did that," he grumbled. "What, did they think you was dangerous, or somethin'? You ain't exactly a heavyweight."

"I have a gun," she said. "And a dog."

"That mutt 'a yours took a good chunk outta the one that hit you," he said.

"I noticed the blood."

They followed the others inside the side door of a small building, following several flights of stairs to a small, abandoned office. Rick shoved their new friend into a chair and sat down across from him, and Daryl helped Kate sit on a nearby desk.

"Those men you were with," Rick said, "we need to know where they went."

"I ain't tellin' you nothing," the kid said, glancing first at Daryl and then at Ruger with almost a resigned expression on his face.

"Jesus, man, what the hell happened back there?" T-Dog said.

"This little dick and his friends came outta nowhere and jumped us!" Daryl said, pacing restlessly. Ruger tracked his every movement with her eyes, tongue lolling from her bloodstained mouth and a happy smile on her face.

"Man, you're the one who jumped me, _punto_," the kid said, and Kate rolled her eyes. "You and that fucking mutt."

"_She's not a mutt_," Kate growled. "And she didn't even bite you. She just grabbed your pants, because she thought you were dangerous. And considering your friends just gave me a concussion with a fucking _baseball bat_, I'm a little disappointed she didn't actually bite you. Although, I wouldn't be too happy if my dog swallowed bitch blood."

The kid and Kate glared at one another, until Daryl said, "They took Glenn. They could've taken Merle, too."

Kate's brow went up. She hadn't thought about that.

"Merle?" The kid repeated. "What kinda hick name is that? I wouldn't name my dog Merle."

Daryl darted forward and raised one heavy, booted leg to kick the kid in the face, but Rick pushed him back. Ruger grumbled unhappily, standing.

"Back off!" Rick said.

Daryl went to Glenn's backpack, saying, "Wanna see what happened to the last guy that pissed me off?" He withdrew the doo-rag, unfolded it, and dropped his brother's hand into the kid's lap. Rick was shaking his head, and the kid yelped and stood, falling back against the wall. "I fed the rest of him to the dog there!" Daryl said, taking hold of the kid's collar. "I think this time I'll start with the feet!"

"All we want is our friend," Kate said. "Take us to your people, and let us talk to them. Maybe we can work this out without anyone losing an appendage."

The kid nodded, and Daryl turned away. He and Kate met eyes, blue on blue, and smirked at one another.

* * *

><p>Meeting with the gang was a high-stress situation. Kate's palm was sweating, but her grip on her revolver was tight. She had a feeling Ruger could sense her tension, because the dog was tense as well, refusing to go more than two feet away from her and growling at any unfamiliar sounds.<p>

They had the kid walk ahead of them through the small hole in the wall around the gang's property.

The warehouse doors opened, and several men walked out. Once the kid and the apparent leader of the group exchanged a few words in spanish, another man stepped up and raised a gun at Ruger.

Kate was quick to respond in kind, raising her revolver and glaring the man down, holding on with both hands.

"That's the bitch that bit me in the ass, G," he said. "Should just shoot the fuckin' thing right now."

"Before you do that, you should be aware that this dog has a much more valuable life than you do," Kate said. "If you so much as graze a hair on her head, you'll be dead before you hit the ground."

"You think you could hit me, sweetheart?"

"I think I've been shooting since I was eight years old and I don't hold a gun sideways like a fucking dumbass, so yeah. I could hit you, no problem."

The dumbass in question cocked his gun and turned it on her—holding it sideways.

His boss, G—or Guillermo—raised a hand and gently pushed his hand down, nodding.

"We just want a calm discussion," Rick said.

"Your hillbilly jumps Filipe's cousin, and Filipe gets bitten by a dog in the ass, and now you want a calm discussion?"

"Heat of the moment," Rick replied. "Mistakes were made."

"On both sides," Kate added, lowering her gun and patting Ruger's head. The dog's hackles were up in response to the tension, but she was otherwise calm. "We just want our friend back. Surely he's of no use to you."

"Why you want him so bad?" Guillermo asked. "He doesn't look like family. Boyfriend, maybe?"

"He's one of ours, nonetheless," Rick said. "I'm sure you can understand."

"You got my brother in there?" Daryl suddenly asked, inching forward and peering through the wide doorway.

"Fresh out of white boys," Guillermo replied. "But I do got an asian. Interested?"

"If you're selling him for the price of one gangly mexican, then sold! Bring him out," Kate said, grinning.

"See, girl, that don't sound like an even trade to me," Guillermo said. "We need a little compensation."

"For what?" Kate asked.

"My boys were injured. They need something for their pain and suffering."

"So give them the day off. What do we have that you could possibly want?"

"That bag of guns you found in the street."

"You're mistaken," Rick said. "That's my bag of guns."

"It was in the street. Could've been anyone's guns. They got your name on them?"

"They do say 'sheriff'," Kate said. "He look like a cop to you?"

Guillermo whistled, and Kate saw movement up above. The three of them collectively raised their heads to see Glenn being held captive on the roof, his mouth taped shut and terror dancing in his eyes.

"I look like I'm joking to you?" Guillermo said.

Kate and Daryl exchanged a tense look.

"I see two options," Guillermo continued. "You come back with Miguel and my guns, everybody walks. Or you come back locked and loaded, and we see which side takes the most damage. And if you're lucky, I won't feed your boy to _my_ dogs," he said. "And they make that one look like a chihuahua."

They turned to go back inside, and it seemed that that would be it, until Ruger suddenly cocked her head to one side—and darted into the warehouse.

"Ruger!" Kate screamed, chasing after the dog without a thought.

"Kate!" Daryl shouted, quick on her heels.

Spanish shouting suddenly echoed throughout the warehouse, but Kate paid it no mind as she followed Ruger through a set of double doors and into a hallway that was…surprisingly…sterile.

Kate slowed down as she realized she was barreling down a hallway crowded with senior citizens, some of whom glared as she passed. She glanced through open doorways on either side of the hallway, to see elderly people in every room, some with oxygen tanks, or in wheelchairs, or lying in bed reading a book.

"What the fuck?" Daryl asked, right behind her.

"Did we step into the twilight zone?" Kate asked.

"Maybe so. Where'd your dog go?"

"Down here."

They followed the dog into another room, which was larger than the small rooms in the hallway. It seemed to be some kind of recreational room, with round tables where a few people were sitting. Glenn was in this room, and he stood to greet them with a smile.

"Hi, guys! They let you in? I saw your dog come in, and I figured you wouldn't be far behind."

Kate's eyes immediately sought the dog in question, and her face twitched with the desire to smile when she saw Ruger rolling around in the floor with three fuzzy chihuahuas.

"God, I'm going to kill that dog," Kate said, "right after I hug you."

She grabbed Glenn and pulled him into a fierce hug. "We thought they were feeding you to hellhounds or something, dude."

Rick and T-Dog suddenly appeared, along with over half a dozen very irritated mexicans, who were all shouting in two different languages.

Kate stepped up and held up both hands. "Whoa, whoa, whoa! Hold it!"

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Guillermo asked.

"Following my dog to the monsters you have hidden away back here," Kate gestured with her chin to the dogs, now chasing each other around the tables. "Yours make _mine_ look like a chihuahua, huh?"

Guillermo had the grace to look sheepish.

Kate shook her head. "What's going on, really?"

Guillermo sighed, then gestured for everyone to take a seat. Kate hadn't been seated for a minute before Ruger came running over and planted both front paws on the table beside her, leaning in to lick a long, wet stripe up the side of her face. Before Kate could recover, she leaned in the other direction and gave the same treatment to Daryl, who cursed and wiped at the clean spot on his face. Neither could do more before Ruger was off again, chasing one of the little dogs around the room.

Guillermo was a different person now, it seemed. He explained to Kate and the others their situation. He said the elderly patients here couldn't be moved, because some of them had trouble getting to the bathroom by themselves, much less being moved out of the only facility that could care for them. He told them about the nurses that all left when the world went to shit, and who could blame them? But someone had to take care of the people that were left here to die, and everyone was suddenly looking to Guillermo for leadership. He said it was tough, but they made do however they had to.

Kate looked to Rick, and the deputy looked back at her. For a moment, neither said anything, and then, "Rick, we can spare some of the guns. They need them more than we do."

"Are you fuckin' kidding me?" Daryl asked hotly, but Kate could tell by his expression that it was for appearances only. He didn't really ever use a gun, anyway, so what did he care?

"Come on, Rick," Kate said, when Rick didn't reply.

Finally, Rick nodded. "Kate's right. You need these more than we do. We'll split them with you."

Guillermo nodded. "We thank you for this."

* * *

><p>When they were walking back to the van outside the city, Glenn said, "Admit it. You really came back for the hat."<p>

Rick smiled softly. "Don't tell anyone." He leaned around Glenn to address Kate. "You did good today, Kate. I'm glad you were there. I don't know what would've happened if Ruger hadn't run in."

"What are you talking about? I was terrified! I thought for sure we were both dead meat," Kate said.

"But if that hadn't happened, and we'd been turned away, I don't know how we would've gotten Glenn back."

"True. All things considered, it could've been a lot worse," Kate admitted.

"Still say you shouldn'a run in like that, dog or not," Daryl groused, from Kate's other side. "Coulda gotten the both of us killed."

"You didn't have to run in after me," Kate said. She didn't notice that the others were pulling ahead of them, whereas she and Daryl—and Ruger—had slowed down a bit.

"So, it's okay for you to run in after a damn mutt but it's dumb for me to run in after a person?"

"Daryl! She's _not a mutt_!" She punched the redneck in the arm, and he laughed.

When the laughter subsided, she leaned against his arm and softly said, "I'm sorry we didn't find your brother."

Daryl shrugged. "He ain't dead. Can't nobody kill Merle but Merle."

"You think he'll go back to the camp?"

Another shrug. "Prolly. His bike is there."

"You're there, too."

His reply was cut off by an exclamation up ahead.

"What now?" Kate asked, and they jogged forward and stopped by the others. Kate frowned at the sight that lay before them—and the distinct lack of what was _supposed_ to be there.

"Where's the van?" She asked. "You parked it right there, right, Glenn?"

"Yeah!" Glenn said. "Exactly there. Who would've taken it?"

"Merle," Rick said.

"He's gonna be takin' some vengeance back to camp," Daryl said, a look of shock and dread on his face that sent snakes roiling in Kate's gut.

"Surely he wouldn't hurt anyone," Kate said, even as the others took off at a jog, not replying. "Right? _Right_?" She chased after them, Ruger sprinting ahead of her.

* * *

><p>As always, your reviews and constructive criticism help make me a better writer, so let me know what you think.<p> 


	5. Loss

_**Chapter 5**_

Kate was already ready to drop from exhaustion when she heard the screams coming from their camp. Pumping her legs desperately harder, she withdrew her .38 and whistled to Ruger, who returned obediently to trot along beside her, no longer running ahead as she had been.

When they topped the hill where the camp resided, all six of them rushed into the fray without stopping to take stock of what was happening. Glenn hurled himself toward the nearest walker, swinging his bat. Daryl, Rick, and T-Dog all had shotguns, and Kate took aim and started shooting with her revolver.

"Ruger, _bleib_," she ordered, firing at a walker that was reaching for Glenn.

Ruger whined nervously, but stayed by her side. She couldn't risk something happening to the dog, and she couldn't focus on protecting the group if she was worried about one of the walkers sinking its teeth into the only thing she had left from her old life.

For what seemed like an eternity, there was nothing but screams, gunshots, and blood. Kate's whole world had pinpointed into this one moment, this one thing: don't stop shooting. Don't think about anything else, not now. Don't worry about the others. She couldn't stop to mourn those she saw who had bite marks gouged into their flesh, or those who were buried beneath the feeding hoards of walkers. She couldn't look at their faces-didn't want to know who had survived and who they would be digging graves for later. What if someone she had come to like was one of the fallen? What if it was Daryl, or Glenn, or one of the kids?

When the last walker finally collapsed to the ground with a bullet in its head, Kate's grip went lax on the gun, and the weapon fell from her hand with a thud. Her knees buckled next, and she sat heavily on the ground just outside the ring of gore that had become their camp. She didn't know most of these people very well-admittedly had trouble remembering some of their names. But she grieved for them. She grieved for the loss that their families were experiencing. She grieved for what might have been; if they'd gotten to the guns a little earlier. If their truck had still been there. Would these people still be alive if they'd managed to get here sooner? Was all this her fault, for suggesting the majority of the able men go with her and Daryl to look for Merle? Granted, she hadn't forced them to volunteer, but they had come nonetheless. Didn't that make her responsible?

Ruger pawed her leg, and Kate's eyes filled with tears as she wrapped her arms around her dog, burying her face in the warm fur. Ruger stilled, allowing the hug like a patient older sister would, and flicked her tongue across Kate's shoulder.

Now that the fighting was over, the others were beginning to realize who they had lost. Wails of agony filled the air as the camp realized who was among the fallen. Sniffling, Kate drew away from Ruger and stood, grabbing her gun and stuffing it into the back of her jeans. She couldn't do this right now. She needed to get away, just for a little while, until her emotions were under control.

Ruger followed at her owner's heels as Kate dragged her feet away from camp, wiping absently at her tear-stained cheeks.

She soon found herself at the quarry, listening to the water ripple to and fro in the darkness. Climbing atop a rock, she sat down and hung her legs over the edge; it was just tall enough that her feet hung several inches above the surface of the water. Ruger hopped up beside her and laid down at her side, crossing her front paws and staring out at the water in a similar fashion to her owner, who buried the fingers of one hand in the thick fur of Ruger's back.

The sounds of the mourning couldn't be heard this far away, and Kate was grateful. Seeing the others lose people they loved was a painful reminder that she had no idea if her family was even alive. Had her Nashville-based family managed to get away from the more populated areas of the city? The St. James' were a resourceful lot, but no one had seen this coming. No one had expected the end of the world. How could you be prepared for something like this?

The sound of scraping rock tore her from her insanity-inducing thoughts, and Ruger jumped off her perch and trotted over to the sound. Kate drew her gun and turned-.

To see Daryl striding toward her through the darkness, glaring half-heartedly when Ruger stepped in front of him, blocking his path.

"Gonna shoot me?" He asked, glancing up at her. "Move, mutt!"

It was a testament to how bone tired she was that Kate couldn't be bothered to correct him, and the lack of desired response to his comment didn't go unnoticed. Instead, she simply laid her gun aside and sighed.

"Wondered where ya went," he said, climbing up and sitting down beside her. Ruger occupied herself with splashing about in the shallow water beside their perch. "Thought for a minute you mighta been..."

"Among the dead," Kate finished for him.

"Well...yeah. Why you out here, anyway?"

Kate shrugged, not responding.

"Not talking' about it?"

"Nothin' to talk about, Davy Crockett."

His hand found her back, rubbing briefly and then falling back to his side, as though he had heard something in her voice that explained much more to him than what she'd actually said.

"You got family?"

"Doesn't everybody?"

"You don't like answering personal questions, do ya?"

Kate sniffed. "Not really."

He didn't reply, and Kate felt a little guilty for shutting him down so hard. He had only been offering her an outlet.

"You first," she finally said.

"Me first?"

"Tell me about your family first, and then I'll tell you about mine."

"Nothin' to tell," he groused, and Kate was surprised by the laugh that spilled from her throat.

"Hypocrite!" She accused.

"Turn about's fair play, my ma always said," Daryl replied, but he was smiling.

"Your ma, huh?"

He nodded. "Dad died of a bad liver a long time ago. Ma raised me an' Merle, till one day the cops came 'round for Merle. Didn't see 'im for three years. Almost killed my ma, thinkin' she failed him or somethin'."

"I'm sorry," Kate said. "Sounds hard. What about your ma...when all _this_ happened?" She asked, gesturing around them.

He shook his head. "She died two years ago, when my brother went to jail for the _second_ time."

"Jesus," Kate breathed, leaning against Daryl's side. "I sure am sorry."

"Your turn," he breathed, as though grateful that it was over.

"Talking about your feelings ain't so easy when it's you who has to do the talking, is it?"

"Your. Turn," he said again, nudging her with his shoulder. "No getting' out of it now that you made talk."

"Dammit."

He chuckled.

"I don't know, okay?" She snapped, frustrated at having to admit it.

"Don't know what?"

"If my parents are okay. If my brother and his wife managed to make it outta Nashville. If this shit is even _happening_ in Nashville like it is here. I don't know if my parents made it out of Brentwood, or if they maybe met up with my brother and they're all safe. Or maybe they're all shufflin' around Nashville and eating anything that moves."

She sniffed, realizing she was crying. Daryl put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her against his side.

"I don't want to think about them being like those people up there, lying dead somewhere where nobody cares. Or worse, lying dead somewhere and then getting' back up in a few hours."

She self-consciously wiped at her eyes and nose and looked up into his pale blue eyes.

"God, I'm sorry. This is ridiculous. I can survive knowing there's a possibility my family is safe, and there's people up there that are having to come to terms with the fact that someone they love _isn't_."

"You're allowed to worry about your family, Kate," he said, voice soft and rough.

Kate nodded, but didn't reply. She was beginning to realize just how close their faces were. Hell, his mouth was just _inches_ from hers. All she had to do was lean in.

They both leaned away at the same time, Daryl's arm falling back to his side and Kate raising a hand to swipe a piece of hair away from her face.

What the hell was she thinking? She barely knew this man. And the world was coming to an end! He could be dead tomorrow. _She_ could be dead tomorrow! There was no way she was getting emotionally involved with someone when emotions did nothing but cause you pain in a world like this.

Daryl cleared his throat, and she wondered if he had been having similar thoughts. "We should head back to camp. Long day tomorrow."

"Yeah."

Crap. Where was she going to sleep tonight? She'd normally sleep in her truck, but that was miles away on some road that she seriously doubted she'd be able to find again.

He hopped off the rock and said, "I got a tent you can use."

"You have an extra tent?"

"Merle wasn't real big on the sharin'," he said by way of explanation, and she wondered if he realized he was referring to his brother in past tense. "It's right next to mine. Should be enough room for you and yer pooch."

Kate snorted. "Me and my pooch thank you."

* * *

><p>The blankets smelled vaguely of body odor and whiskey that she doubted he'd shared with Daryl, but they were comfortable enough that Kate passed out almost as soon as her head hit the pillow, despite the fact that she'd been worried about what would happen if she fell asleep and more walkers wandered into their camp.<p>

She woke up with an eighty pound dog lying across her legs, and that combined with the heat from the early morning sun was enough to pull her from sleep. She pushed Ruger away and attempted to find sleep again, but after a few more minutes of tossing and turning, she elected to get up for the day.

Securing her hair behind her head, she unzipped her tent. The gory scene that greeted her was the same as last night, but somehow altogether different.

Andrea was sitting with her little sister's body, and several other people were already up and attempting to clean up the carnage, despite the early hour. Kate strode over to where a few people were standing and talking quietly.

"What's going on?" She asked.

"Andrea won't let us move Amy," Rick explained.

"Rick tried to talk to her and she put a gun in his face," Shane said.

"You think she'd let Amy hurt someone?"

"I think grief makes people do strange things that they might never otherwise consider," Dale replied.

"Well...I guess someone should keep an eye on her just in case," Kate said.

Someone walked by several feet away, and Kate was beyond appalled when Ruger suddenly ducked her head and growled, baring her teeth.

Jim skittered back at the sound, eyes going wide.

"What's with your dog?" Shane asked.

"I don't know, she's never just randomly..." Kate trailed off when Jim raised his hands at Ruger's slowly advancing form, revealing a spot of blood on his side. "Jim," she said slowly, "you have fresh blood on your shirt."

"It's from the bodies," Jim mumbled, but Ruger barked at him, all sharp white teeth and mistrust dancing in her brown eyes.

"Ruger says otherwise," Kate said. She stepped forward. "Can I see?"

"It's nothing. Just a scratch."

"Jim," Kate said, "were you bit?"

That got the attention of everyone around them, who formed a circle around Jim and Ruger.

"Let us see," Daryl ordered, holding a pickaxe, but not quite high enough for it to be considered threatening.

Jim grabbed a shovel, as T-Dog and Daryl lunged forward.

"Ruger, _lass es_!" Kate ordered before the dog could join the struggle, just as Daryl managed to shove Jim's shirt up and reveal a nasty looking set of bloody teeth marks dug into his side.

Everyone went silent at the sight of the marks, and Ruger whined, leaning against Kate's legs.

* * *

><p>"Why are we even still talkin' about this?" Daryl was asking sometime later. "We have a no tolerance policy for walkers, or the to-be!"<p>

"He's still a human being, Daryl," Kate argued wearily. They had already been talking about it for twenty minutes. Jim was sitting by the RV behind them; he could probably hear everything they were saying.

Daryl glared at her, not replying, and she forced herself to hold his steely gaze until someone else spoke.

"We should take him to the CDC," Rick said. "They might have a cure."

"Assuming it's even still there," Shane said.

"They were looking for a cure; that would be the place the military would protect the most. That's our best chance."

"Or the military base in Ft. Benning," Shane argued.

"That's a hundred miles in the opposite direction," Lori noted.

"Guys, can we just be realistic here for a second?" Kate asked.

"Realistic about what?" Lori asked.

"About Jim. I'm _not_ saying we kill him," she said when Daryl opened his mouth to speak, "but is there anyone here who honestly thinks Jim will make it to either of those places? Everyone here knows how fast this thing spreads, whatever it is. Once you get bit, you only have a few hours, tops. Jim would never make the whole trip to the CDC or Ft. Benning."

"Then what do you propose we do with him?" Rick asked.

"I'll tell you what we do with him!" Daryl said, turning and darting toward Jim, raising the pickaxe in his hands. "Somebody needs to have some damn balls around here and take care of this problem!

Rick followed on his heels raising his gun to Daryl's head. "Hey, hey hey! We don't kill the living!"

Kate was beginning to lose count of how many times Daryl had stared down the barrel of that particular gun.

"That's funny," Daryl said, "coming from a man who's got a gun to my head."

"Rick and me may disagree on some things, but not this," Shane said. "You put that down."

Daryl glared and slammed the pickaxe into the ground before stalking off. Kate stared after him, feeling shocked that this angry, violent man was the same one who had comforted her last night.

With a sigh, she started after him.

"That might be a bad idea," Lori said as she passed her.

"He'll deal with it," Kate snapped, then said, "Sorry," for snapping at someone who didn't deserve it.

"Good luck," Lori said, patting her shoulder and gently nudging her after him.

* * *

><p>I had not realized how long this chapter was getting, so I had to stop it there. Fear not, though! I'm working on the next chapter right this minute, and it's probably about halfway done. This is becoming surprisingly easy to write. And as always, let me know what you thought! Your reviews and constructive criticism help make this a better story.<p> 


	6. Finally Over

_**Chapter 6**_

She found Daryl sometime later just outside the camp with several of the dead who were waiting to be burned. He was using his pickaxe to cut through their skulls, ensuring that their loved ones wouldn't rise again to eat them. Ruger bounded over to him and leaned up to lick his forearm.

"Get outta here," Daryl ordered, though whether he meant Kate or Ruger remained unknown. He nudged the dog away with his knee and brought the pickaxe down on another of the dead.

"Can't kill Jim, so you're gonna do this instead?"

"Go away, Kate," he said again.

"No."

He stopped with the pickaxe to shoot her a frustrated, and somewhat bewildered, glare. "I wasn't askin'."

"And I don't take orders."

He didn't reply, just went back to his gory deed.

"What the hell's the matter with you?" Kate asked after several long minutes of silence, broken only by the pickaxe cutting through bone and brain matter.

"Nothin'."

"We did this whole dance last night, Daryl. You wanna tell me the truth now?"

Tossing the pickaxe down, he advanced on her, and some proud—and maybe stupid—part of Kate refused to take a step back, despite the rage she could see in the redneck's eyes and his body language. He continued his advance until he was right in her face, their noses inches from each other's.

"These people deserved what happened to them," he said through clenched teeth. Turning, he strode away and shouted, "They left my brother for dead! Why should I care about any a' them?"

"Because, like it or not, these people might be the only ones left on this God forsaken earth. And _Jim_ didn't do a damn thing to your brother. Rick did. If you wanna take that out on somebody, take it out on him. Don't take it out on the people here, who are _grieving_ for their loved ones, Daryl! They don't deserve that! No one does!"

"The hell do you know? You only got here yesterday!"

"Yeah, and the guy I met in those woods is not the same guy that's standing here right now. You're better than this."

"You don't fuckin' know me," he spat, pacing back and forth. Ruger followed his every step, glancing back at Kate in what could only be described as confusion. The canine knew he was upset, but she didn't know why.

Kate did.

"You're worried about him."

"Shut up!"

"Why didn't he come back here?" Kate asked. "Did you expect him to? Did you expect him to come back for you?"

"I said shut up!"

"Daryl!" She caught his face in her hands as he turned toward her to continue his pacing.

He went still, breathing hard.

"I am _terrified_," she whispered, admitting something that she thought he probably felt as well, but couldn't bring himself to say. "I'm terrified that my family is dead. I'm terrified that I'll get bit and turn into one of those things. I'm terrified because the only thing I have left of my life is a dog who could die just as easily as anything else in this world, and there's nothing I can do about it. I'm _so scared_ of _everything_, because _nothing_ is the way it's supposed to be anymore. But if we start killing people—people who are _still people_—then I'm afraid that we'll lose the last ties we have to that old world, where our humanity was the thing that separated us from the lions and tigers. And if that happens, then I'll know for sure that we can never get that world back, and then what will even be the point of surviving in this one? Because surviving is not _living_."

He was silent for a long moment, simply staring at her—at the tears swimming in her blue eyes, and the dirt smudged on her face, and her hair falling out of her bun and sticking to her face from the humidity.

Then, very softly, with a voice that was rough with emotion, he said, "I know."

A groan broke the spell, and the two turned toward the sound with dread. One of the bodies was beginning to move, arms and legs shuffling awkwardly toward them.

"God in Heaven," Kate breathed, turning away as Daryl grabbed his pickaxe and put the walker down.

Daryl wiped his brow and shook his head. "I don't think anybody's up there anymore, Kate."

She sighed. She was beginning to wonder that herself.

"Kate!" A voice called, and Kate looked over to see Carol standing several feet away. "Jim asked for you."

"He did?" She replied, bewildered. A glance back showed her that Daryl was resolutely avoiding her gaze, and she wondered if she had made any progress breaking through those thick walls of his. Deciding there was nothing more she could do about it, she followed Carol to the RV.

Jim was lying in the bed in the back of the RV, sweat making his hair and shirt cling to his frame. His face and lips were pale, and his eyes seemed to be moving in and out of focus. Kate picked up the glass of water sitting beside the bed and proffered the straw.

"Thirsty?" She asked softly.

Jim nodded, reaching up to gratefully take a sip.

"You wanted to see me?"

He nodded again. "I heard what y'all said about me outside."

"Oh, Jim—."

"Let me finish," he said, a pleading note to his voice, so Kate went quiet.

"You're right," he continued, "about me not being able to make it to the CDC or Ft. Benning. I can already tell…I can feel…" He shook his head. "It hurts. Think I'll be gone soon."

Kate started to speak, but caught herself. She'd promised him she'd let him talk. Instead, she reached out and took his clammy hand in both of hers. A ghost of a smile appeared on his face when she did.

"I know…you don't know me that well, but you fought for me. And that means a lot. 'Specially since you had to fight Daryl."

She snorted.

"So…I want you to tell the others to go to the CDC, and find that cure for anyone else who might need it. And you leave me here."

"Jim, we aren't going to—!"

"Yes, you will!" He shook his head. "I won't be able to handle a long drive, and I wouldn't make it all the way there anyway." His eyes swam with tears as he said, "I wouldn't wanna hurt anyone. I care too much about these people to risk it." Sniffing, he said, "So, you tell everyone that I want them to go on without me. It's better for everyone."

"We are _not_ just going to leave you here for the walkers, or so you can become one!"

"You can't leave me a gun; y'all will need all of them you can get your hands on."

"So we'll wait." He started to protest, but she cut him off. "Jim, I'm not leaving you behind out there in the heat with walkers out there in the woods. We can go to the CDC anytime. It's not going anywhere. And when you…when you—die, we can make sure you don't get back up again."

He smiled, but there was no humor in it.

"Deal?"

Jim nodded. "Deal." He sat up, wincing. "Can you help me outside? I want to feel the breeze." The '_one last time_' was implied, but neither said anything.

"Of course."

They sat down under the shade of the trees a little away from the rest of the camp. Kate ignored the others as she helped Jim walk over to the tree they were now sitting leaned against.

Kate took a moment to go and tell Rick what Jim had told her, and then she immediately returned to his side.

"I'm sorry I didn't get to know you better," Jim said after they had been sitting in silence for a while, watching the others clear away the bodies from the camp. Andrea had finally let the others move Amy, after she had shot her little sister in the head. Ruger was following at Carl and Sophia's heels, tail wagging happily as the kids played a game of pretend to amuse themselves and take their minds off of last night's events.

"It's not too late," Kate said. "What do you want to know?"

He huffed, and she realized he was laughing. "Where'd you get the beast?"

Kate chuckled. "I got Ruger from a breeder in Nashville. I spent almost two hours standing around and watching the puppies play, trying to figure out which one was right for me. And then this cute little floppy-eared pup comes right up to me, sits down on my boots, and leans her head back to look up at me. It made her ears flop back, and she was just so cute, I couldn't leave without her."

"She's very pretty—smart, too," Jim said.

"Mm-hm. What about you? Are you a dog person?"

"I had a dog as a kid," he replied.

"Oh, yeah? Fond memories?"

He nodded. "Was a black labrador retriever, named Coffee. I used to climb on his back and try to ride him like a horse."

Kate laughed. "I can totally see that. I'm sure it's a matter of time before one of these kids tries that with Ruger."

Jim's head lolled toward her, and Kate knew it wouldn't be long now. His breath was coming in short, shallow pants. His lips were the same ghostly white as the rest of him, and his eyes kept falling closed, as though it took a lot of effort to hold his eyelids up. Kate let him lean against her side and took one of his hands in both of hers, holding tight to make up for his weak grip.

"You're…a good person, Kate," Jim breathed, and Kate fought the wobbling of her chin.

"Just trying to be the person my mama taught me to be," she whispered, fighting not to sniffle and let him know she was crying.

"Your mama did…a great job. Is she…?"

"I don't know. They live outside of Nashville. I was in Atlanta when the walkers took over."

He nodded weakly. "I'll ask God…to watch out for them…and everyone here, too."

"Tell Him we need Him," she said, wiping at her face. "It's a scary place here without Him."

"He's here," Jim replied. "In the actions…of people like you."

Kate looked away, and realized the others were watching them from afar. They all knew Jim was about to die. Kate's eyes found Daryl. The redneck was watching her impassively from across the camp. She wiped at her face again, staring at him instead of at the dying man beside her.

"Are you in pain still?" She asked.

She felt his head twitch on her shoulder. "No." His breathing halted. "I feel…much better…"

"That's good, Jim," she whispered, wiping her face again. She and Daryl continued to stare at each other. She needed something to stare at that didn't remind her of death. And when she looked at Daryl, all she thought about was home.

She heard his breathing finally stop, and felt his already weak grip on her hand go slack. For a moment, she just sat there, gathering herself—telling herself this wonderful person that she'd just begun to know wasn't in anymore pain. He was in a better place, wherever he was.

Sliding away from him, she stood and strode away, not meeting anyone's eyes. When she heard footsteps, she picked up her pace, until she was running down to the quarry as quickly as her legs could carry her down the hillside.

She stopped at the edge of the water, raising her hands to her head and gripping her hair. With gritted teeth, she took a deep breath in an attempt to calm herself. She hadn't known Jim very well. She shouldn't be so broken up over his death; but dammit, he had just _died on her shoulder_. His last moments on this earth had been with her.

She heard a gunshot from the camp, and the tears fell anew.

It was finally over.

Some time later, Kate heard the sound of footsteps drawing near, and the familiar _click-click_ of Ruger's claws on gravel.

"Go away," she said, a pleading note to her voice. "But leave the dog."

"I just came to tell you that everyone's getting ready to leave," Lori said.

Kate nodded with her back to Lori, not replying.

"Are you okay?"

Kate nodded again.

"Can I get you anything?"

She shook her head.

"Okay. Don't stay down here too long. Daryl's packing up your tent."

Wiping her face one last time, Kate turned around and tried to smile at Lori, but judging from the other woman's facial expression, she failed miserably.

"Okay. I'm done," Kate said, nodding—mostly to herself.

"All right. Let's go." Lori turned as Kate drew even with her, and together they walked back up to the camp.

"It was nice, what you did for Jim," Lori said.

Kate didn't reply.

"And brave."

"I don't wanna talk about it," Kate said sullenly.

Lori nodded. "Okay. But I'm here, if you need a friend."

Kate managed a small smile at that. "Thanks."

Daryl was throwing the last of his things into his truck bed when Kate sidled up to him.

"Hey," he said, waiting for her to speak.

"I don't want to talk," Kate said.

" 'Kay?"

Sniffing, Kate elaborated. "I don't want to talk, and Lori kept trying to talk to me. So, could I ride with you and just…not talk? Can we just not talk? I just wanna ride with someone who's not gonna badger me to share my fuckin' feelings right now."

He snorted. "None of that shit here. Hop in."

"Ruger, too?"

"You and that dog come as a set; I figured that out already."

Kate smiled gratefully and whistled at Ruger. When she climbed into the truck, Ruger jumped in after her, and Kate had no choice but to scoot over on the bench seat so the canine had room to sit down.

When Daryl joined them, he leaned forward to survey the seating arrangements.

"You know that dog is takin' up most of the room in here," he said.

Kate nodded, making herself comfortable.

"Any chance she could ride in the bed?"

Kate's eyes went wide. "What if you hit a bump and she falls out of the truck? Or what if she sees a squirrel and decides to chase it?"

"Then the dumb mutt deserves to become roadkill."

"She's staying up here with me," Kate ordered with gritted teeth.

Daryl smirked. "Thought you didn't wanna talk."

Pouting, Kate crossed her arms and leaned against her dog, who barked happily when the sound of the engine broke the silence, and the truck pulled out after the others.


	7. Salvation

_****_AN: I know. I'm sorry. It's been too long. This semester was hell. But thankfully, it's over. I passed. I am back to being a (mostly) sane person again, with a little more time on my hands. I'm taking summer classes, but the load is lighter than this last semester was, so I'll be able to update quicker with more free time (because who's heard of going outside when there's fanfic to be had?)

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter 7<strong>_

Kate snorted awake when the truck hit a pothole, exhausted shocks doing little to dampen the jolt. When she realized where she was, she hastily wiped the drool from the corner of her mouth. Daryl had his window rolled down, and Ruger was splayed across her lap, panting softly in the heat. Kate herself felt sticky in the middle of the cab, the heat from the dog and the redneck leaving her sweating and sticky.

She glanced over and blanched a little when she noticed a wet spot of drool on Daryl's shoulder.

"Not a graceful sleeper, are ya?"

She pouted, turning away to hide the blush she could feel warming her already hot cheeks. "Don't be a jerk. Where are we?"

"Not far."

"From the CDC? Already?"

"Girl, you slept like the dead for almost the whole drive."

"Well, turns out you don't smell as bad as you look," she grumbled, crossing her arms.

She had hoped he would be offended enough to drop it, but he just smirked, which only infuriated her more.

"By the way," he drawled lazily, glancing over at her with mischievous blue eyes, "your dog don't even drool as bad as you."

"But she snores!" Kate said triumphantly.

"Really? I couldn't hear her over your snorin'."

"_Jerk_!" She shrieked and punched him in the shoulder-right on the drool spot. He laughed, and Ruger grumbled unhappily at being jolted while she was trying to sleep.

The rest of the drive passed in amicable silence, despite the earlier teasing. When they finally arrived at the CDC, Kate had to do a double take.

"Wait. No. _That's_ the CDC? _That's_ supposed to be our salvation? This is our final hope?"

There was no one alive. No soldiers guarding the entrances, or manning the barricades set up in the parking lot. There were no survivor tents, as she had anticipated. No medical or military personnel to be seen. The place was devoid of life, unless you counted the shambling corpses milling about in the open space between their vehicles and the front door of the CDC.

There were bodies, though. Lots of bodies. Kate had never seen so many dead people in one place. Blood was smeared across the pavement, the road blocks, and the barricades that the military had, at one time, set up to protect the CDC. Rick had been right; the CDC was the one place the military would try to protect. He was just wrong in assuming that they would last this long.

When Kate saw the others cautiously leaving their vehicles, she blanched.

"What are they doing? What are _you_ doing?" She hissed when Daryl opened his door and clambered from the truck. "There's no one here!"

"Keep your fuckin' voice down and get the hell outta my truck, woman! We didn't come this far just to give up without at least checkin' the place out."

"But, I-."

He grabbed her arm and pulled her from the truck as though she were nothing more than a ragdoll. Ruger hopped out after her, and Kate immediately called the dog back to her side and pulled her handgun from her backpack, which she slung over her shoulder.

"Just so we're clear," she whispered as they crept toward the others, "I am _so_ not loving this."

"Well, don't that just make you special?" Daryl responded, crossbow aiming at anything that moved, but not firing, as they started toward the ominous building. "Cause you can just tell the rest of us are havin' the time of our fuckin' lives!"

"If we don't die in a minute, I'm gonna kill you," Kate swore.

"You go right ahead, darlin'."

They stopped talking after that in favor of covering their mouths from the stench of the dead. The sound of buzzing flies was deafening in the quiet, and Ruger shook her head to dislodge the flies buzzing too close to her face. The dog sneezed, pawed at her face, then hurried to catch up with Kate, who softly called the dog back to her when she realized her canine companion had fallen behind.

When they reached the wide door of the CDC, as the sun waned and began to give way to darkness, they stared while Shane and Rick attempted to force the door open. Shane beat loudly on the metal barrier with his fist, which startled Kate.

"There's nobody here," T-Dog said forlornly.

"Then why are these doors down?" Rick replied.

"Walker!" Daryl warned, stepping away from the group to shoot the thing with an arrow.

Kate glanced up at the darkening sky and shuddered. They were going to be caught out here after dark, and the others were making too much noise. They would attract all the walkers in the area. Passing a hand over Ruger's furry head, she took a deep breath and cocked her gun, eyes blown wide to see through the darkness behind them for signs of movement. She would not let anyone else die today.

She realized there were eyes on her, and she turned to see Daryl staring at her, an unreadable expression on his face. She frowned, and he suddenly turned on Rick.

"This is your fault!" He shouted, and Kate winced at the volume.

"He made a call!" Shane retorted.

"It was the wrong damn call!" Daryl continued, advancing on Rick.

Shane intervened, pushing the redneck back forcefully, and beside Kate, Ruger whined uneasily at all the heightened emotions.

"Shut up, do you hear me?" Shane shouted. "Shut up!"

"Shit," Kate breathed, catching sight of several walkers moving toward them across the cluttered parking lot. "More walkers!" Kate said, gaining everyone's attention. The kids were crying, the women were screaming at the men that they needed to leave, to get away from the city, to find somewhere else to go. Rick was pleading into the small camera, telling someone who probably wasn't even there that they had women and children, no food, little gas, and no more hope. Nowhere else to go.

Daryl, Glenn, and T-Dog stepped up beside her and aimed their weapons at the line of walkers easing toward them. They weren't near enough to bother opening fire, but soon enough the little group of humans would be outnumbered and trapped against the side of the CDC building. The walkers were between them and the vehicles. Ruger growled, lips hitching up to reveal sharp white teeth.

And then suddenly the door began to rise, revealing white light that for a moment looked like salvation. Kate and the others standing guard at the back of the group turned to face the light, their weapons falling back to their sides.

Then Ruger darted through the group, winding between bodies and legs, and rushed inside.

"Damn it, Ruger!" Kate chased after her, knocking shoulders with Rick. And suddenly, everyone was running with her, into the safety of the CDC building.

At first, it seemed that the inside was as empty as it had seemed on the outside. It wasn't until Ruger started barking at a darkened doorway that they realized there was a man standing there, an automatic weapon pointed at them.

"Are any of you infected?" The man called out, over the echoing barks of the dog.

"No," Rick replied.

"Ruger!" Kate hissed, and the dog went quiet, though she continued to stand between her pack and the stranger, staring steadily despite the potential danger.

"Not even the dog?"

"Definitely not the dog," Kate said. "I take better care of that dog than I do myself."

"What do you want?"

"A chance," Rick said, and Kate nodded. That seemed to be the most honest answer.

"You'll all submit to a blood test; that's the price of admission," he said, stepping toward them. "Even the dog."

"Deal," Kate said.

"If you've got stuff to bring in, do it now. Once this door closes, it won't open again."

Daryl looked at Kate, who gestured to her backpack and shrugged. She had already grabbed all her things. It had become a habit not to go anywhere without it, should she find herself unable to go back for it later.

Once the last of their things had been brought in, they took an elevator down several levels. Kate found in uncomfortably cramped. She found herself between Glenn and Daryl, against the back wall, with Ruger leaning against her legs and puffing hot breath on her hip.

She breathed a sigh of relief once the elevator stopped, breathing the conditioned air in deep gulps. They followed Doctor Edmund Jenner to a control room, and Kate felt her stomach dropped when she realized VIE was nothing more than an advanced computer system, and Dr. Jenner was the last person left in the building.

So much for their salvation.

She couldn't help noticing a large digital clock on the wall, with bright red letters. A weight settled in her gut when she saw it, but before she could ask about it, Jenner was leading them down another hall and into a classroom, with theater seating and a whiteboard at the front of the room.

In an attempt not to squirm, she said, "What do you know about what started all this? How did walkers become…walkers?"

He glanced up at her as the test tube filled with her cherry red blood. "It's virus, of sorts. I'll explain everything in the control room once we're done here."

"And…what do you know about this virus's impact on dogs?"

"Has he been bitten?"

"She. No, she hasn't. But I'm afraid one day she might do the biting, and if she gets a walker's blood in her mouth, what will it do?"

"I can run a few simple tests to tell you," he offered.

"I would be extremely grateful." The canine in question was lying at Daryl's feet, waiting her turn. The redneck seemed a little confounded as to why the dog sometimes gravitated to him, and donned an irritated expression whenever he glanced down at his new furry shadow. "That dog is the last thing I have of my old life. It'd be nice to know that she won't accidentally off herself by attacking a walker, especially if someday I _need_ her to, you know?"

Jenner nodded. "Absolutely. Call her over, and we'll get a little blood from her."

Kate whistled, and the dog emitted a weary groan as she rose and trotted over. Several of the others smiled at the sound, and the kids giggled.

"Paw," Kate said, and Ruger slapped her paw into her owner's hand.

"Cute," Jenner commented as he felt for a vein. "I'm afraid I'm no vet, so this may take a minute."

"Should be right along here," Kate said, feeling on the inside of the leg. She had seen her vet do it enough times to know the right area.

"Yeah, there it is," Jenner said, and slipped the needle into the bouncy vein.

Ruger was unphased by the pinch of the needle, and instead leaned her head up to press her wet nose against the underside of Kate's chin.

"Oh, geez," Kate said, twisting to wipe her chin on her shirt.

It was over in but a moment, and Kate scratched Ruger behind the ears for being a good girl.

"Now, if you'll all follow me, I'll show you to your rooms before I get started with these samples." Jenner led them out into the hallway and stopped between several closed doors. "They're all the same, so take your pick. There's an entertainment room right through there for the kids, just don't plug up any of the video games. They use too much electricity. There are bathrooms in each of the rooms, with warm, running water."

Kate felt her knees go weak at that. "Warm water?"

She turned to see the group sharing her bright smile.

"Me first!" She suddenly shouted, racing into one of the bedrooms, Ruger quick to sprint ahead of her. Kate kicked the door shut behind her and stripped down as she moved in the direction of the bathroom, leaving a trail of dirty clothing behind her. She'd be damned before she put those death-smelling clothes back on.

She and Ruger stepped into the granite and glass shower—and how great was _that_, anyway?—together. Kate scrubbed at her own skin until it was pink and raw, then went through half the bottle of shampoo on herself and Ruger's thick, double-coated fur. The dog lapped happily at the warm water, her wrecking-ball tail beating loudly against the shower door.

Things hadn't felt this normal since before the walkers, and Kate would take what she could get, after the week she'd had.


End file.
